I had an appendectomy at 3am yesterday. First surgery I ever had. I just felt like posting the experience here. Share your own surgery stories.
Tuesday afternoon: Came down sick. Nausea, chills, exhaustion, painful feeling of pressure through my abdomen.
Tuesday night: Symptoms of sickness fade away, leaving a painful stitch in my lower right abdomen. I toss and turn all night.
Wednesday morning: Still hurting. Go to work, thinking I'm going to tough it out. I'm there five minutes before realizing it was a mistake. Pain increases. I am moving like an old man, slow and bent.
Wednesday 4pm: Leave work early. Go to Express Care a few miles from my house. Express Care doctor examines me for maybe 45 seconds, says, "Yep, you have appendicitis. Get to the ER."
Wednesday 6pm: Get in car at Express Care intending to drive to hospital. Pain explodes from severe annoyance to debilitating, teeth-gritting agony. Imagine putting your thumb on a granite surface and smashing it as hard as you can with a hammer. Now put that pain in your abdomen, and don't let it fade away like a hammer strike eventually would. Drive myself to hospital anyway.
Wednesday 7pm: Arrive Maine Medical. Hobble to ER entrance, where the considerate doorman runs a wheelchair over to help me inside. I sign simple paperwork, consent to treatment, and am put in waiting room.
Wednesday 7:20pm: They see how bad I am hurting and bump me to the front of the line. I am triaged and put in my own room. They have me put on a johnny and stick an IV in for fluids.
Wednesday 7:50pm: Nurse puts morphine through the IV. Morphine is awesome.
Wednesday 8pm-11pm: People come in every twenty minutes or so to ask me the same set of questions (any allergies, drug habits, etc), take my vitals, and tell me I'm on the slate for a CAT scan. My brother shows up to visit around 8pm, stays until after 1 the next morning.
Wednesday 11:30: I am wheeled down to X-Ray to have a CAT scan. Never had one of those before. Having foolishly refused the offer of more morphine, I have a hard time lying flat on the CAT scan bed. Fortunately the test is short.
Thursday 12am: Back in my room. Doc says he's certain I have appendicitis, that they're only waiting for the scan results to make it official. I'll have surgery in the morning.
Thursday 1am: Surgeon comes in, informs me my appendix perforated. This increases the urgency of surgery. They will take me shortly. As Maine Med is a teaching hospital, the seasoned surgeon will stand by while a training surgeon does the operation, ready to jump in if there is trouble. My stomach is poked and prodded for the dozenth, and I hope the last, time.
Thursday 2:45am: I am wheeled down to the holding room (the last room you're in before surgery; there's a lot of "on deck" positioning in hospital) to talk to anesthesiologist. Everyone has shower caps and breath masks here. There's a lot more security in this part of the building, the attendant uses his keycard four or five times. Things look more sterile and expensive.
Thursday 3am: Enter surgery. Carefully move from gurney to operating table. Oxygen mask is put over my face. I breathe deep as instructed. There is no drowsiness at all, I am simply gone.
Thursday 5:30am: I am awakened in recovery. Anesthesia is lost time, you don't dream or anything. They give me two oxycodone and wheel me back to my room.
Thursday 6am-5pm: You can't sleep in a hospital. You doze, but you don't sleep. Too much activity, people coming in every twenty minutes. My roommate is a professional victim who doesn't understand anything. For example, he is given the same room service menu I am given, but instead of calling room service himself, he calls the nurse station instead to "send someone down here to get me sumpin to eat." He has the nurse order him a lobster sandwich, which he then refuses to eat. For amusement, I count the number of times he complains about not being given enough painkiller.
Thursday 5:30pm: Various staff members have told me I will be in the hospital for different amounts of time, ranging from three days to being released this afternoon. The surgeon comes by to check on me, tells me it wasn't as bad as she thought. My appendix came out fine, infection was minimal. I'm on an IV of heavy antibiotics as a precautionary measure. My folks arrive to visit, having come as soon as they returned from a camping trip.
Thursday 6pm: Surprised nurse tells me I can check out. I sign some forms, accept a prescription for more oxycodone, and carefully dress.
Thursday 7pm: Shuffle slowly out of hospital under my own power. Go to spend a couple days with my folks, so I won't be alone.
Thursday 8pm: Awkward but much-needed shower (you sweat all the time in the hospital whether you're hot or not), change of dressing, fall into bed.
Friday morning: Wake up refreshed. Hobble downstairs, enjoy delicious pancake and strawberry breakfast. Take more oxy. Park ass on sofa and immediately fall asleep.
Tuesday afternoon: Came down sick. Nausea, chills, exhaustion, painful feeling of pressure through my abdomen.
Tuesday night: Symptoms of sickness fade away, leaving a painful stitch in my lower right abdomen. I toss and turn all night.
Wednesday morning: Still hurting. Go to work, thinking I'm going to tough it out. I'm there five minutes before realizing it was a mistake. Pain increases. I am moving like an old man, slow and bent.
Wednesday 4pm: Leave work early. Go to Express Care a few miles from my house. Express Care doctor examines me for maybe 45 seconds, says, "Yep, you have appendicitis. Get to the ER."
Wednesday 6pm: Get in car at Express Care intending to drive to hospital. Pain explodes from severe annoyance to debilitating, teeth-gritting agony. Imagine putting your thumb on a granite surface and smashing it as hard as you can with a hammer. Now put that pain in your abdomen, and don't let it fade away like a hammer strike eventually would. Drive myself to hospital anyway.
Wednesday 7pm: Arrive Maine Medical. Hobble to ER entrance, where the considerate doorman runs a wheelchair over to help me inside. I sign simple paperwork, consent to treatment, and am put in waiting room.
Wednesday 7:20pm: They see how bad I am hurting and bump me to the front of the line. I am triaged and put in my own room. They have me put on a johnny and stick an IV in for fluids.
Wednesday 7:50pm: Nurse puts morphine through the IV. Morphine is awesome.
Wednesday 8pm-11pm: People come in every twenty minutes or so to ask me the same set of questions (any allergies, drug habits, etc), take my vitals, and tell me I'm on the slate for a CAT scan. My brother shows up to visit around 8pm, stays until after 1 the next morning.
Wednesday 11:30: I am wheeled down to X-Ray to have a CAT scan. Never had one of those before. Having foolishly refused the offer of more morphine, I have a hard time lying flat on the CAT scan bed. Fortunately the test is short.
Thursday 12am: Back in my room. Doc says he's certain I have appendicitis, that they're only waiting for the scan results to make it official. I'll have surgery in the morning.
Thursday 1am: Surgeon comes in, informs me my appendix perforated. This increases the urgency of surgery. They will take me shortly. As Maine Med is a teaching hospital, the seasoned surgeon will stand by while a training surgeon does the operation, ready to jump in if there is trouble. My stomach is poked and prodded for the dozenth, and I hope the last, time.
Thursday 2:45am: I am wheeled down to the holding room (the last room you're in before surgery; there's a lot of "on deck" positioning in hospital) to talk to anesthesiologist. Everyone has shower caps and breath masks here. There's a lot more security in this part of the building, the attendant uses his keycard four or five times. Things look more sterile and expensive.
Thursday 3am: Enter surgery. Carefully move from gurney to operating table. Oxygen mask is put over my face. I breathe deep as instructed. There is no drowsiness at all, I am simply gone.
Thursday 5:30am: I am awakened in recovery. Anesthesia is lost time, you don't dream or anything. They give me two oxycodone and wheel me back to my room.
Thursday 6am-5pm: You can't sleep in a hospital. You doze, but you don't sleep. Too much activity, people coming in every twenty minutes. My roommate is a professional victim who doesn't understand anything. For example, he is given the same room service menu I am given, but instead of calling room service himself, he calls the nurse station instead to "send someone down here to get me sumpin to eat." He has the nurse order him a lobster sandwich, which he then refuses to eat. For amusement, I count the number of times he complains about not being given enough painkiller.
Thursday 5:30pm: Various staff members have told me I will be in the hospital for different amounts of time, ranging from three days to being released this afternoon. The surgeon comes by to check on me, tells me it wasn't as bad as she thought. My appendix came out fine, infection was minimal. I'm on an IV of heavy antibiotics as a precautionary measure. My folks arrive to visit, having come as soon as they returned from a camping trip.
Thursday 6pm: Surprised nurse tells me I can check out. I sign some forms, accept a prescription for more oxycodone, and carefully dress.
Thursday 7pm: Shuffle slowly out of hospital under my own power. Go to spend a couple days with my folks, so I won't be alone.
Thursday 8pm: Awkward but much-needed shower (you sweat all the time in the hospital whether you're hot or not), change of dressing, fall into bed.
Friday morning: Wake up refreshed. Hobble downstairs, enjoy delicious pancake and strawberry breakfast. Take more oxy. Park ass on sofa and immediately fall asleep.
